


Read Between the Lines

by backtoblack101



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5 Times, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3775216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backtoblack101/pseuds/backtoblack101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The four times Angie and Peggy don't say "I love you" and the one time they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Read Between the Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine your OTP doesn’t say “I love you” they say “I can’t lose you” and “I believe in you” instead.

Angie was sitting at the kitchen table when Peggy got home, a cold cup of tea in front of her as she stared blankly at the wall. “Angie?” Peggy threw her keys on the counter and stepped towards her friend, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Had an audition today…” Angie didn’t turn to look at Peggy, just continued her staring competition with the wallpaper.

“For the play you mentioned last week.” Peggy always made a note to keep up to date with Angie’s auditions and various classes, knowing how important it all was to her friend.

“Yea that’s the one…” Angie huffed out an angry breath, finally turning her head to look Peggy in the eye. “Apparently I’m not Italian enough?”

“Not… what?” Peggy bit back a laugh at the absurdity of the notion; she’d lived with Angie long enough and met her family often enough to know that was the one thing you could never accuse her of being.

“Apparently I don’t have the right appearance.” Angie had this look in her eye now, the one she often got when Peggy forgot to put the lid back on the milk properly resulting in a leak; she was about to rant. “I mean never mind my ma’s from Napoli and my pa’s from Venezia y’know? Never mind my pa bein’ so Italian he don’t even speak fluent English. No, apparently my hair’s too light and I don’t hold myself the right way.” Her hands were swinging manically in the air when she spoke, punctuating each word. “I mean how do _real_ Italians even hold themselves? That ain’t even a proper reason.”

“I quite agree.” Peggy ran her hand across Angie’s upper back trying to sooth the tension.

“I think I just gotta face it Peg,” Angie sighed, and from the way her voice shook Peggy knew she was holding back tears. “I ain’t cut out for the bright lights. I need t’start bein’ realistic, y’know. Ain’t no point in gettin’ the train to auditions every other day if there ain’t anyone willin’ to take a chance on me.” By the time she finished speaking she was crying and Peggy knelt down swiftly in front of her chair.

“Hey.” She placed her hands on Angie’s knees and squeezed gently. “Don’t you dare do that, don’t you dare stop believing in yourself.”

Angie scoffed sadly and looked up at her friend. “Yea well, pretty hard believin’ in yourself when no one else does.”

“That’s not true,” Peggy insisted, only growing more determine when Angie rolled her eyes. “You are one of the hardest workers I’ve ever met and your passion for theatre is unparalleled as far as I’m concerned. You have a gift Angie, a god given gift; you just need to keep believing that.” Peggy paused, waiting for Angie to look her fully in the eye before continuing. “And if ever you don’t, just remember _I believe in you_. I always have, and I always will.”

“Really English?” She wiped her eyes slowly, catching the tears before they fell.

Peggy smiled softly. “Really.”

-.-.-.-

“Angie?” Peggy kicked off her heels quickly and made a bee line for her bedroom. “You home?”

There was a moment of silence, then from somewhere in the vague direction of the living room a “Yea,” followed by footsteps. “What’s up?” Angie asked moments later, appearing in Peggy’s bedroom doorway, seemingly unphased by Peggy’s current state of dress other than the quick appreciative once over she gave to her friend in a fitted black t-shirt and snug combat trousers.

“I got a call from an old army friend about an hour ago,” Peggy explained, not bothering to look around at Angie as she laced up her combat boots. “Him and his team need my help with a mission.” She paused then and turned to face her friend. “I have to go to Russia.”

“Russia?” Angie’s face fell.

“Yes…” Peggy paused awkwardly, trying to find something to say that would ease Angie’s worry lines. “Only for a week.”

“A week…” Angie nodded slowly though her eyes glazed over, almost as if her body was trying to reject the information. “A week’s a long time in Russia.”

Peggy bit her lip. “I promise you it’s not.” She shrugged herself into her heavy brown jacket, still never taking her eyes off Angie. “And my friends, the Howling Commandos… they’ll look after me.”

Angie stepped into the room, her sad eyes never leaving Peggy’s as she closed the space between them. “You better mean that.” Her voice was soft and she reached out to pull up the zip of Peggy’s jacket.

“I do,” Peggy promised, not bating an eyelid even when Angie’s hands came to rest on the lapels of her jacket, the waitress’ fingers curling around the corners and holding tight.

For a moment Angie looked anywhere but Peggy’s eyes, seeming to consider what to say next. “ _Be careful_ ,” she settled on finally, giving the lapels one last tug before stepping away.

“You too…” Peggy muttered, picking up her bag then and leaving before they could say anything else.

-.-.-.-

Peggy was taking a sip of her tea when she saw it; over the rim of her cup she saw the man’s hand coming out and before a glare could even set on her face the same hand made contact with Angie’s ass. To her credit Angie barely even flinched, didn’t even bother turning round to face the sneer of the sleaze ball at the table; just continued as she was towards the kitchen.

Peggy put down her cup on its saucer slowly. She glanced down at the cutlery in front of her, a fork and knife, laid out by Angie a few minutes earlier and for a moment she contemplated which would be more effective.

Then she has a better idea.

She picked up her handbag and slid out of her booth and towards the table occupied by Angie’s slap happy patron, his hair thin and greasy, his suit washed out and wrinkled, his skin dry and cracked around his eyes, and a wedding ring forced around a swollen finger. Peggy sighed to herself; whoever the poor woman was she could do a lot better. With a quick glance round to see who was looking Peggy slid herself into the seat opposite him, and if the man was shocked he didn’t show it.

“Well hey there darlin’.” His voice was as off putting as the grease in his hair and Peggy wondered briefly if he genuinely thought himself appealing to the opposite sex.

Rather than say that though Peggy just smiled. “There’s a gun pointed at your crotch,” she explained slowly, taking her Walter PPK out of her handbag as she spoke. “Check if you must,” she added, and he did, his face paling as he sat back up in his seat.

“Listen lady, I got-“

“I don’t care what you got,” Peggy cut him off sharply, her voice remaining low and even. “You see I don’t like the way you treat the wait staff in this establishment, and unless you take your custom elsewhere I will be forced to do something about that. Something drastic.”

He rose from the table like a scalded cat and Peggy didn’t take her eyes off him as he took a fistful of notes from his pocket and threw them on the table, barely managing to grab his jacket off the back of the chair before he hit the revolving door with such force it was still spinning long after he’d crossed the street and disappeared around the corner. Peggy slipped her gun back into her pocket and went to stand, but a warm hand curling around her shoulder stopped her.

“You tryin’ t’put me outta work English?” Angie didn’t sound mad; though Peggy knew from experience Angie was more than capable of schooling her tone in order to lull her victim into a false sense of security.

“I assure you he left plenty to cover the bill,” Peggy replied, motioning to the crinkled bills that would easily cover the man’s dinner and a handsome tip.

“Y’know,” Angie hummed, taking her hand off Peggy’ shoulder as she spoke and stepping around the table to collect the money that had been unwillingly left for her. “You don’t gotta look after me like that.” She was smiling though, and Peggy felt safe in presuming she wasn’t actually in trouble.

“I know,” Peggy nodded, watching Angie straighten out the bills for a second before finishing her sentence. “I like to anyway though, I hope it isn’t an issue.”

Angie laughed. “Suit yourself. I mean I can’t see why you’d bother, but suit yourself.”

“I bother because you’re worth more than a slap on the ass Angie. I bother because…” she paused and licked her lips slowly. “Because _you deserve better._ ”

The faintest shadow of a blush coloured Angie’s cheeks, though she cleared her throat quickly, and Peggy didn’t dare mention it. “You’re too good to me Peg,” she murmured. “In fact, when you get home tonight I’m takin’ you to the pictures, my treat, well…” she glanced down at the money in her hand. “His treat.”

-.-.-.-

“Well hey there Mr. Fancy, long time no see,” Angie greeted when she stepped out of the Automat, an umbrella already opened over her head to keep at bay the lashing rain.

“Miss Martinelli,” Jarvis kept his tone even, failing to crack a smile at Angie’s bubbly greeting. “I’m afraid there’s been an incident.”

“Peg try to cook again?” Angie snorted, still remembering the cremated remains of a leg of lamb her friend had attempted one Sunday.

“Uh no, not quite.” He cast his eyes down then towards the rain water running through the gutter and that was all Angie needed for her heart to drop to her stomach.

“Oh god,” she whimpered, tears already filling her eyes. “Oh god she’s hurt isn’t she?”

Jarvis glanced back up at her, his own stiff upper lip trembling. “I think, Miss Martinelli, it would be best if you were to come with me.”

-.-

Angie had never seen Peggy look so small. Wires, bandages and linen bed sheets hid her from full view, with the shallow sounds of her breaths being the only thing to distract Angie from the deafening silence. It was a through and through apparently, tore straight through her lung and wasn’t she lucky it hadn’t been a few inches to the right or it would have been her heart. That’s what they’d said anyway, Angie hadn’t been listening though; it was hard to listen to doctors when all she had to let her know Peggy was still with her was the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.

It wasn’t too long before they were left alone together. Jarvis had taken the doctors aside and explained why an exception was to be made to the family only rule. He’d probably dropped Howard Stark’s name more times than was necessary, and as Angie laid herself out on the bed next to Peggy she made a mental note to thank him later.

Her skin was still warm, that was a plus, and her hair was still as soft as it had been that morning when they’d rushed around one another on their way out the door.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Angie whispered, burying her head into Peggy’s shoulder and letting her tears stain the hospital gown. “Don’t even think about it. _I can’t lose you Peggy Carter,_ so don’t for a second think you’re allowed to do this to me.”

-.-.-.-

Peggy’s eyes felt like they’d been superglued shut when she woke up, or perhaps like small weights had been placed on each of her lashes. Still though she opened them slowly and reached out to wipe them.

That’s when she felt it.

A burning pain screamed through her chest like a hot poker, knocking the air clean out of her lungs and leaving tears in her eyes. She felt an overwhelming urge to cough or rasp for air, though some primal instinct told her not to. Instead she tried taking smaller breaths, eventually finding the pain dissipate into a dull throbbing that she knew from experience wouldn’t go away for a while.

Bloody Nora, as if being shot once wasn’t bad enough.

This time wasn’t only different due to the nature of the wound though. This time she was in a better hospital than the makeshift ones they’d had in rural Russia. This time she also wasn’t alone.

“Angie?” she chanced a glance sideways at the woman in the bed next to her, being pleasantly surprised when the pain wasn’t quite as blood chillingly horrific as she’d expected.

“Peg!” Angie’s head shot up from the pillow and she stared down at Peggy like she was the most precious thing on earth. “Oh, Peggy…” Then she was crying; hot, fast tears rushing down her cheeks with sobs that rocked through her body and jolted the bed, sending tremors of pain across Peggy’s chest.

“Angie…” Peggy gasped her name this time, and her breathless, raspy tone caught Angie’s attention effectively. “I just…” She tried to motion in some way to indicate her pain but bloody hell _everything_ hurt after you were shot in the chest, who knew.

“Oh god,” Angie covered her mouth, as if that would stop her shaking. “Oh god sorry…” She slid off the mattress and onto the seat next to the bed. “Oh y’know what…” she added then, reaching above Peggy’s head to press a button that would presumably alert the doctors Peggy was awake. “I was told I shou-“

“Stop.” Peggy grabbed her hand, barely even regretting the pain. “I’ll still be here in a few minutes,” she explained, lowering Angie’s hand back onto the mattress along with hers and awkwardly entwining their fingers around the wires.

“Yea,” Angie grinned, not caring to argue. “Yea you will be…” Then she was crying again and, god, it was such a stupid thing to cry over but for days she hadn’t known if Peggy would still be here after she went to the bathroom or after she went home to shower and eat and now she would be, so naturally Angie’s reaction was to ball her eyes out rather than say any of the things that had been running through her head for the past three days.

“ _I love you_ …” Peggy said then and Angie’s sob caught in her throat and for a second she forgot how to breathe.

“You… what?” She spluttered, suddenly feeling like she’d had her own lung punctured.

“When I was shot the last thing I thought before everything faded to black was that I’d forgotten to buy that mince from the market that you like using for lasagne,” Peggy explained, her previously pale cheeks turning pink at the confession. “And then I remember telling myself that I’d just been shot, so why on earth was I worrying about lasagnes and then, well, then I realised I didn’t care at all about the lasagne. What was bothering me was that if I died I’d never get to hear you give out to me for forgetting to buy it, and I’d never get to see you stomp around the kitchen making pasta instead because I’d ruined dinner, and I’d never get to see you glare at me across the table and… and…” she faltered for a moment and tears clouded her vision. “I’d never get to tell you how devastatingly head over heels in love I am with you.”

Angie didn’t speak. Instead she stood and leaned over the bed, pressing a kiss against Peggy’s lips, soft but promising. Then she kissed her again, harder this time, and lingering just long enough for Peggy to kiss her back.

“ _I love you too_ ,” she whispered finally, her forehead resting against Peggy’s as her body hovered awkwardly, trying not to put any unnecessary weight on the agent. “I love you so much I’ll even overlook you forgettin’ the mince… just this once.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just don't have it in me to write a fic where Peggy dies apparently.... so that was an unplanned happy ending.


End file.
